Her Stolen Past

by Eason, Lynette

  “No, the kidnapper wouldn’t have wanted to leave any kind of trace. And if it was someone in the church, he—or she—would have known about the visitor cards.”

  “Right. So, Hector’s looking into Mr. Bradley’s business connections back then. See if anything makes a blip on the radar.” He turned onto Mrs. Talbot’s street and Sonya looked over at her mother’s house. Now hers. It looked absolutely normal with no sign of the drama that had played out last night.

  He parked the car and Mrs. Talbot stepped out onto her front porch, a wide smile of greeting on her lined face. She waved. “Come on in. I’ve got desserts all ready for after the sandwiches.”

  “Desserts?” he whispered.

  “She’s a baker. Trust me, you’ll love anything she puts in front of you.”

  His mouth started watering before his foot hit the first step.

  Sonya stepped inside the familiar foyer and her throat clogged with tears. As a child, she’d grown up about an hour and a half away, but her mother had always loved Spartanburg, having lived here until she met Sonya’s father.

  Throughout Sonya’s childhood, they’d made trips to visit, always stopping to see Mrs. Talbot, who became like a grandmother to Sonya. Sonya’s mother and Mrs. Talbot might have had a twenty-year age difference, but they’d been tight friends.

  When the house across the street had come up for sale, shortly after Sonya had gone off to college, her father had purchased it and her parents moved home. Sonya finished undergraduate school, then graduate. One semester away from fulfilling her dream of becoming a doctor, she’d come home to take care of her mother.

  A woman who might not be her mother.

  Sonya introduced Brandon to the woman. Mrs. Talbot grinned. “So, you’re Sonya’s young man, are you?”

  Brandon lifted a brow and glanced at Sonya. She knew her face was three different shades of red. “No, Mrs. Talbot, we’re…friends,” she answered before Brandon had a chance to say anything. No sense in going into everything right now.

  “Well, if you’re not smart enough to snag him, I might have a go at it.” She winked at Brandon and turned toward the kitchen, fingers clutched around the sandwich bag. “Handsome thing like that, girl’s got no sense if she’s not going after that one….” She disappeared into the kitchen.

  Sonya sighed and shook her head. “I told you.”

  Brandon grinned. “This is going to be interesting, isn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.” He shut the door behind them, but not before she saw him take a look down the street, first to the right, then to the left. “See anything?”

  The door snicked closed. “No.”

  “But you think someone followed us?”

  “I don’t know. I just want to be careful not to let my guard down.”

  She nodded. “I’m going to help Mrs. Talbot.”

  “I’m going to watch the street.”

  Sonya frowned. “All right.” His vigilance hit home. The niggling thought that she might be putting the older woman in danger just by being in her house wouldn’t leave her alone. Sonya decided they probably needed to eat and talk and get out as fast as they could without being rude.

  Mrs. Talbot hummed as she worked, setting the sandwiches on her fine china. “Why don’t you pour the tea, child?”

  Sonya smiled. She’d always be a child to this dear lady. She did as instructed. “Do you mind if I ask you a couple of strange questions?”

  “Strange questions?”

  “About my mother.”

  Grief flashed across Mrs. Talbot’s face. “No, I don’t mind. I love talking about your mother. Goodness, I do miss that woman.”

  “I know.” Sonya swallowed against the instant tears. “I miss her, too.”

  “Your father, too. He was such a good man. Loved your mother and you like I’ve never seen before. Would have done anything for the two of you.”

  “Yes, I know. Daddy was a wonderful man.”

  Mrs. Talbot cocked her head toward the den area, where Brandon was. “That one got potential?”

  Sonya refused to blush. “He’s helping me with something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I found something in Mom’s closet when I was going through her house, getting it ready for the estate sale.”

  Mrs. Talbot paused and studied her. “Something that has you troubled. What was it?”

  “A baby bag with a birth certificate.”

  “Yours?”

  “No. It belonged to a baby named Heather Bradley. Did Mom ever say anything about it?”

  “No, she never did.”

  “You saw her in her last days. Did you notice how troubled she was?”

  A sigh slipped from the woman’s lips. “Well, truth be told, I did notice she seemed fairly agitated, but I thought she was just in pain.”

  She had been in pain, of course. “I think it was more than the physical pain of her disease. I think it was something else.”

  “Like what?”

  Frustration filled Sonya. “Like something was on her mind and troubling her.” She sighed. “I wish I knew.”

  “And I wish I could help you, honey, but I can’t recall anything. She never said a word to me about anything that was troubling her. Other than leaving you, of course. She hated to leave you.”

  Sonya’s throat closed and she fought the tears that wanted to flow.

  Mrs. Talbot motioned toward the table. “Call your young man in here and let’s eat.”

  Sonya nodded and took a deep breath. She wouldn’t cry. She didn’t have time for tears. If she could stay focused on the goal of finding out about the baby bag and Heather Bradley, she would be all right.

  Throughout lunch, Sonya asked question after question and finally realized she wasn’t going to get any more information from Mrs. Talbot. Although she had to admit watching Brandon gently field the woman’s flirtatious comments was quite amusing.

  He even thrilled Mrs. Talbot by flirting back a bit. Lighthearted and innocent, the woman giggled like a schoolgirl. Sonya thought it was charming and sweet and said a lot about Brandon’s true personality. She found herself drawn even more to the man.

  When Mrs. Talbot wasn’t flirting, she enjoyed reminiscing and telling stories about Sonya’s mother, but repeated that she had no idea about Heather Bradley or what her friend might have been so agitated about in the last few weeks of her life.

  Brandon and Sonya left with promises to visit again soon. Sonya climbed into Brandon’s car and shut the door.

  He slipped in beside her. “She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”

  “That’s putting it mildly, but I love her.”

  “I can see why. I wonder if my siblings and I would have turned out different if we’d had someone like her in our lives.”

  His personal comment made her pause. “What do you mean?”

  He flushed. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

  She huffed. “Is it just me? Or do you shut everyone out?”

  He stiffened. “I don’t shut everyone out.”

  “Okay.”

  He drove for the next few minutes in silence. “I don’t.”

  “Okay.”

  He tapped the wheel with his hands and hummed an eighties tune she recognized, but couldn’t name. He stopped humming. “Do I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” Another long pause. “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “I think it’s just become a habit with you.”

  He didn’t answer and she looked at him, ready to repeat the statement, but the look on his face stopped her. He was staring into the mirror, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. “What is it?” she asked.

  “We’ve got company and I don’t think it’s the good kind.”

  TEN

  Brandon sped up.

  “Who is it? Can you see?”

  “No, but he’s been on us since we turned out of your subdivision.”

  “You think he saw us leave Mrs. Talbot’s?” />
  “I’m not sure. I don’t think so. I think he was waiting at the entrance.”

  She turned to look out the back. “It’s a brown sedan. Very nondescript.”

  The car continued to close in. Brandon sped up. The sedan backed off.

  “Wish I could see the license plate.”

  Brandon pulled his phone from the cup holder and called in the description of the vehicle. The car stayed with them as he came to a red light. “I’m going to stop and see what he does. Duck down.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it,” he snapped.

  Sonya flinched and unclipped her seat belt. She slid down half on the seat, halfway on the floorboard, her brown eyes never leaving his face. He swallowed. He’d been too sharp. In a soft tone he said, “There’s a police cruiser just thirty seconds away. He’ll be here before I stop at the light.”

  He hoped.

  Brandon pressed the brake and slowed. The sedan stayed on his tail.

  Closer. And the vehicle came to a smooth stop just behind his bumper.

  Blue lights flashed almost immediately behind the sedan. The driver opened the door and shoved his hands upward.

  And Brandon realized who it was. “You can get back up, Sonya. Sorry I snapped at you.”

  “Who is it?” she asked as she maneuvered back into the seat.

  “Spike.”

  “Spike? What’s he doing?”

  Brandon threw open his door. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

  He walked back to the young man, who looked a lot more stressed than the last time he’d seen him just a couple of days ago at the restaurant. The officers from the cruiser had stepped out and approached Spike, hands on their weapons. Brandon waved them off. “Sorry, guys. False alarm.”

  The officer relaxed. “You sure?” Brandon thought he recognized the man who spoke. Jason Newman, a rookie, but one with promise.

  “I’m sure. I’ve got this.”

  The officers climbed back into their vehicle and left. Brandon turned to Spike, who still had his hands in the air. “Get out of the car, man. What in the world are you doing?”

  Spike stood, eyes lowered. “Looking for you.”

  “You couldn’t use a cell phone like usual?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t pay the bill.”

  “Ah. Okay, then, a friend’s phone?”

  Another negative.

  “Tell me why you’re looking for me.”

  “My mama’s sick and I can’t afford her medicine.”

  Brandon got it now.

  “Get in the car and follow me to the drugstore.”

  Spike’s head jerked up and his gaze met Brandon’s. “I ain’t takin’ no charity, dude. My mama would have a fit.”

  Brandon understood the pride behind the token protest. “You don’t have to tell her how you paid for it.”

  Spike’s eyes drifted over Brandon’s left shoulder. “You’re with her again.”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. “Never mind.”

  “I trust her.”

  Spike paused. “For real or you playin’ me?”

  “For real.”

  “All right, then.”

  “You lead. I’ll follow.”

  Brandon climbed back in the car and waited for the light to turn green. Their small drama in the street had backed up traffic, although once the other officers left, the cars had started to go around them.

  Spike passed him and Brandon fell in behind him.

  “What’s going on?” Sonya asked.

  “I’m doing a favor for a friend.” He explained about Spike’s mother. “She’s got sickle cell and can’t afford her medicine. I once told Spike, if he ever found himself in a situation where he needed help, to ask me. He doesn’t have any money for the medicine.”

  “So you gave it to him?”

  “No, I’m following him to the pharmacy to buy it for him.”

  “He’s a recovering addict?”

  “Yeah. He’s been clean for about a year. The medicine’s expensive. If I put that much money in his hands, he might be tempted to spend it elsewhere. I won’t do that and he knows it.” He felt Sonya’s eyes on him and it made him a tad uncomfortable. “What?”

  “You’re a good man, aren’t you?”

  Now Brandon just felt embarrassed. “I don’t know about good, but helping a kid when he needs it seems to be the right thing to do.”

  “Whatever you do for the least of these,” she murmured.

  He caught the words and gave her a smile.

  Thirty minutes later, Spike had the medicine, three burgers, a large fries and a chocolate shake. He also had a full tank of gas and two bags of groceries, thanks to Brandon’s generosity. It wasn’t the first time satisfaction filled him after helping someone like Spike. Not from a sense of pride, but from knowing Spike would have a good night and his mother would have her meds.

  Brandon hadn’t had anyone do that for him when he’d been Spike’s age, and he’d vowed if he ever found a way to help kids who couldn’t help themselves, he’d do it.

  His phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Where are you, man?” It was Hector.

  “On Calhoun. Why?”

  “Can you come down to the station? We’ve got some video from one of your lady’s neighbors. He called us and said he thought he got a picture of the guy who was sneaking around Sonya’s house. Even has him at the trunk of your car. It’s grainy and fuzzy and the guy has on a hat, so it’s probably a long shot, but…”

  His lady? What was it with everyone throwing him and Sonya together? First Mrs. Talbot with her “your young man” stuff, now Hector? But he was surprised to find he really didn’t mind that much. He’d set Hector straight later. Maybe. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up.

  “What is it?” Sonya asked.

  “Do you mind coming down to the police station? Hector got a picture from one of your neighbors’ security cameras.” He paused. “Who would have that kind of security?”

  “Mr. Lehman,” she answered without hesitation. “He’s a retired police officer and his house is wired to the nth degree. He lives directly across the street from me. He has cameras pointed toward the street, which would cover my house. He also has them aimed up and down the street.” She slapped her head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask him about it.”

  “He called and volunteered it.”

  “Well, good. Maybe we’ll finally see who it is.”

  “Hector said it isn’t a very good picture.”

  “Well, it won’t hurt to look.”

  Ten minutes later, they walked into the police station. Brandon waved back at those who acknowledged him, but led Sonya straight to his and Hector’s desks. The station was a big open room. Desks and phones took up most of the space.

  Hector looked up. When his eyes landed on Sonya, his brows lifted and he gave Brandon a thumbs-up. Brandon ground his molars and gave his partner a look that should have sent him scurrying. Instead, Hector grinned. Brandon noticed Sonya’s lack of attention and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she’d missed the communication between him and Hector. Her head swiveled on her neck and he realized she’d never been in a police station before. “It can be a little overwhelming. Just stick with me.”

  “Right.”

  She settled in the chair next to his desk. Brandon introduced her to Hector, who held her hand a few seconds too long, in his opinion. Hector loved women and women loved Hector. Brandon scowled when Sonya smiled prettily. But it wasn’t flirty. He breathed deep and tried to resist the sudden flashes of memory. His ex-fiancée telling him she was seeing someone else. Then after they’d split, running into her with her new man at a restaurant and trying to pretend he was all right.

  It had hurt.

  But looking at Sonya now, he realized it didn’t hurt as bad as it had a year ago.

  “Bran?”

  Hector’s voice cut through the memories and he saw they were s
taring at him. “Oh, right. Sorry. I was thinking about something.”

  Hector made a humming noise in his throat and let his gaze bounce between Sonya and him. Then he said nothing more, just grabbed a photo from his desk and handed it to Sonya. “Anything look familiar?”

  She squinted at the photo, tilted her head and sighed. “No.”

  “Didn’t think you’d get much from it.”

  She pointed. “Look, there’s a smudge—or something—on his right shoulder. Where his shirt slipped down a bit, you can see it. Is that a tattoo?”

  Brandon leaned in. “Possibly.” He looked at Hector. “Can we get that area enlarged?”

  “We can, but it may blur it right out.”

  “Let’s try.”

  “All right. It’ll take a little while to get it back.”

  Brandon nodded. “I’ll put a call in to the lab and request a rush.” Hector laughed and Brandon shrugged. “Hey, it can’t hurt.”

  “Brandon?”

  He turned to see Mary Ann Delaney, one of the station’s secretaries, waving at him. “Yes?”

  “You have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?” He frowned. “Who?”

  “Your mother.”

  Sonya saw him freeze. Saw him go totally still for a full five seconds as a woman with red hair headed toward him. She had a trim figure and green eyes that sparkled.

  “That’s your mother?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow, she’s beautiful. She looks more like your sister than your mother.”

  His eyes shuttered and his lips thinned. “That’s what happens when your mother’s only sixteen years older than you are. She’s in her mid-forties.” His even, flat tone gave nothing—and everything—away.

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Could you tell me where the nearest ladies’ room is?”

  He shot her a grateful look. “We passed it on our way in. There on the left.” He pointed and she slipped inside before mother and son greeted each other.

  Sonya decided to take advantage of the time and wound up retouching what little makeup she wore, and then she brushed her hair and washed her hands.

  In the midst of drying her hands, the door opened and two female officers stepped inside. “Can you believe it?”

  “She has some nerve showing up here.”